Status: Hopefully updated once a week.
Getting Back To Insanity
and then it descends
*****
Ryia and I rejoin our comrades, who are busy packing away a variety of nasty looking weapons. A sudden clap on the back spurns me into action, as I spin, my knife coming up at the same instance. In the Resistance...you learn to react fast. Or you learn what it's like to die.
"God dammnit Blasthe, you scared me!" I huff, lowering the point of my knife as I register the idiot- sorry, boy, in front of me "You know I'm jumpy after battles." Blasthe chuckles, then his face grows serious, as he steps closer to me and brushes aside one short curl from my forehead. His finger traces along a long cut, before he reaches inside the pouch at his belt; Blasthe's a medic, and pulls out gauze. I twist away from his trained hands "Blas, it's fine. See?" I graze a finger along it quickly, before displaying the unsoiled pad of my thumb "No blood." I finish, and he makes a face "Nye..." Whatever he wanted to say is swallowed up by the start of an agonizing shriek. Ryia turns away, her face pale, as the more seriously wounded are paraded by in a grotesque parade of stretchers. I stand my ground, forcing myself to meet all the tortured faces. Beside me, Ryia lets out a slight noise, and I glance over at her bowed over form...
Suddenly, the darkness descends, and for a moment I find myself locked in a separate world. A world where instead of feeling compassion for Ryia, a wave of terror sweeps through me as my eyes bounce back and forth between all the sharp points glistening around me. In its harsh light, the expressions of my friends are vicious, the feeble hands of the dying a threat…
Panting, I fight to regain control. Fight until suddenly the real world bleeds through in a catalyst of light and sound, and everything is right again.
*****
Ryia and I rejoin our comrades, who are busy packing away a variety of nasty looking weapons. A sudden clap on the back spurns me into action, as I spin, my knife coming up at the same instance. In the Resistance...you learn to react fast. Or you learn what it's like to die.
"God dammnit Blasthe, you scared me!" I huff, lowering the point of my knife as I register the idiot- sorry, boy, in front of me "You know I'm jumpy after battles." Blasthe chuckles, then his face grows serious, as he steps closer to me and brushes aside one short curl from my forehead. His finger traces along a long cut, before he reaches inside the pouch at his belt; Blasthe's a medic, and pulls out gauze. I twist away from his trained hands "Blas, it's fine. See?" I graze a finger along it quickly, before displaying the unsoiled pad of my thumb "No blood." I finish, and he makes a face "Nye..." Whatever he wanted to say is swallowed up by the start of an agonizing shriek. Ryia turns away, her face pale, as the more seriously wounded are paraded by in a grotesque parade of stretchers. I stand my ground, forcing myself to meet all the tortured faces. Beside me, Ryia lets out a slight noise, and I glance over at her bowed over form...
Suddenly, the darkness descends, and for a moment I find myself locked in a separate world. A world where instead of feeling compassion for Ryia, a wave of terror sweeps through me as my eyes bounce back and forth between all the sharp points glistening around me. In its harsh light, the expressions of my friends are vicious, the feeble hands of the dying a threat…
Panting, I fight to regain control. Fight until suddenly the real world bleeds through in a catalyst of light and sound, and everything is right again.
*****
♠ ♠ ♠
Last short chapter, I promise; this was actually supposed to be part of the last chapter, but I evidently have not mastered the art of copy and paste.Everyone who's subbed and/or commmented are awesome people, thank you so much! If you haven't subbed or commented, well...I still think you're awesome, but you should sub and/or comment ;)